


Regret

by Mezzymet



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Compulsions, Grief, M/M, Mental Illness, Minor Character Death, OCD, illusion to intrusive thoughts, mental health, open/sad ending, reference to past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 15:19:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18552415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mezzymet/pseuds/Mezzymet
Summary: He looks at Tony then, eyes terrified and wide as he bawls and he knows he’s hit rock bottom.





	Regret

**Author's Note:**

> Had this in my notes. It’s kind of a character study sort of not really thing?
> 
> I struggle with compulsions and intrusive thoughts and that’s part of this. It isn’t meant to really explain too much, just to be a glance into a conversation between past lovers.

Peter does these....these things because he needs to cope.

That's what his therapist has told him, anyway. When Peter bothers to show up.

He performs these rituals, these compulsions because his brain hasn't come up with a way to....deal with it.

It's fine, he doesn't mind it. Well, except the part where he mostly does mind it.

Like right now when he's sitting on the top floor of Stark Tower, cold wind and rain whipping around his ears as he stares out at the dark night sky.

He wishes, even now, that he could just cry or scream or anything. Maybe he wasn't meant to cope that way, the normal way.

"You know you can't be out here, Pete," He hears from behind him. Tony.

Peter doesn't bother turning around. He doesn't bother because he knows it'll end in another argument about how he isn't dealing with any of this and how Tony has basically bought him a therapist for the foreseeable future and Peter isn't utilizing said therapist and.....he's just really tired, that's all.

"You'll catch a cold." Tony says weakly and Peter can hear him stepping up behind him, settling in next to him.

Peter sighs, a heavy sound that carries the weight of his busy day. School, therapy, lab work, sleep. His days just go by like that, bar the days he doesn't have therapy. Those are getting fewer and fewer apart though.

"That's fine," He says, aware of the hollow tone to his voice. "Probably wouldn't last long."

Tony gives him this look sometimes, like he’s terrified of him. Peter isn’t sure if it’s because of his strength, because of what he can physically do or if it’s because he worries about him.

He won’t tell him either way, Peter knows that.

He’s giving him that look right now. It makes sense, he’s sitting on the deserted roof of a gigantic tower in the middle of the night. He has class tomorrow. He wishes he could drop out but Tony would never let him do that. None of them would.

“Peter....” Tony sounds weary, probably worn down from all the fights they’ve been having recently. Did it count as a fight if neither of them were shouting? 

Peter doesn’t have the energy to shout these days. 

“Why do you always come here?” He doesn’t ask it like he’s bothered by the possible answer. He sounds curious with an undercurrent of worry lacing his voice. Peter wishes he wouldn’t place that worry on him, he can’t take the weight of it.

“She never came here,” He says simply. As if it’s simple in any way. The truth is, he can’t go anywhere near his old apartment building. He can’t go to Queens. “And I like it here. Reminds me of you.”

That’s another thing he’s not supposed to talk about.

I have feelings for you.

Peter wishes he would have shut his mouth when he could have. He wishes he could take the past ten months back, reverse it until he feels whole again. Normal again. 

Tony doesn’t say anything, like he’s hesitating to find the right words. 

“It’s just a building,” He says, unwisely in Peter’s opinion. It isn’t. It really isn’t just a building and he knows that.

“And I was just a body?” He looks at Tony with clear eyes, he feels detached and numb. He knows he’s being unnecessarily harsh and he shouldn’t feel satisfied when the other man flinches at his question.

“You know that isn’t true,” Tony shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut tight. It’s cold up here and Peter tries to hide his shaking. Tony’s always been the warm one, his body like a furnace even during the winter. Peter tries to not remember that specific detail too acutely.

“Isn’t it?” Bitterness enters his voice. He doesn’t want to care about this. It doesn’t matter, it won’t make Tony want him. It won’t bring her back. It won’t change his life or make him feel better.

So Peter does what he does best these days and lashes out.

“I’m not your pet project,” He grits out, the anger feeling good. It feels good to be angry, to not give Tony the contact he knows the man craves from him. “Sometimes I think you forget that.”

Tony lets out a disbelieving laugh, pained to a point where Peter would have wanted to comfort him. He would have wanted to do that a long time ago maybe. Not now.

“I’ve never treated you like a project. I’m sorry if you feel that way but nothing I’ve-“

“Oh, really?” Peter tries to squeeze the wetness back in but he doesn’t want to blink, he just keeps staring out at the dark expanse of night in front of him, fists gripping at his thighs until they hurt. “The suit. An update on my character, on who I can be for you. What I can do for you.”

He’s listing them off like he’s been waiting to for years.

“My education. It wouldn’t have been good enough for you to keep me here, keep me close. No, that reflects bad on you. You just wanted me gone, wanted to send me away and you’re too much of a coward to admit it.”

He’s breathing raggedly and his chest burns and he refuses to turn in the silent mans direction.

“The therapy. I didn’t want it. I’m fine, I’m fine, I don’t want to sit in a fucking therapists office and talk about how much you don’t love me and how my Aunt is fucking dead, okay?”

He’s crying by the end of it, his heart shattering in his chest all over again. His teeth tingle, his fingers sting where he clutches his legs. 

He can’t keep it in and he lets a sob out, a devastating noise. Tony doesn’t hug him, he doesn’t come near him and that hurts even more because it’s Peter’s fault.

It’s his fault.

“It’s my fault, it’s my fault,” He mumbles over the rumbling sound of his voice. Thunder hits over head and Peter gives in, burying his head in his hands. “I can’t- I’m so stupid and I feel too much and I keep doing weird things. I can’t stop, I can’t stop doing them and I know everyone knows and it hurts, it hurts so bad-“

He chokes on his own spit, going into a coughing fit until a hand reaches forward and pats him on the back, soothing circles that ache more than they help.

“I can’t bring her back, I can’t bring her back,” He sobs so loudly that he’s glad there’s no one else around, glad they’re sitting abandoned in the middle of the air. “I can do all these things and convince myself that they h-help but they d-don’t and if- if I don’t do them, everyone’s going to die. Tony, you’re all g-going to die. Because of me.”

He looks at Tony then, eyes terrified and wide as he bawls and he knows he’s hit rock bottom.

Tony stares back at him and his face will probably haunt Peter for years.

He’s crying, two thick paths of tears coating his face as he looks at Peter. It only makes it worse, only makes Peter feel worse.

“It’s my fault!” He shouts, causing Tony to jump at the volume. “It’s m-my fault, please make it stop. I just wanna be n-normal, p-please- Please.”

He isn’t sure what he’s even begging for but Tony lurches forward and wraps him into a hug, tight enough that something in Peter unravels.

“You....you gotta go to those sessions, Pete,” Tony says, voice shaking harder than Peter’s ever heard. “What I did with you before was irresponsible. It wasn’t fair to you and....I want to make it better but you gotta get help. I’m so scared that...”

He doesn’t have to finish the sentence, Peter already knows.

“May wasn’t your fault,” Tony cries softly into his ear, rocking him like you would a baby. Peter doesn’t mind it but it only makes him weep more, the comfort too much after so long with nothing. “None of it was, I promise and...and we’ll get you help for your problems. I’ll do whatever I can.”

Peter curled his fists into Tony’s shirt and brushed his face against the fabric, wet and aching.

“Tell m-me you love me,” He whispers, knowing how deeply messed up it his. He and Tony...they were never....

It doesn’t matter. It’s what he needs to hear.

“Of course I love you, darling,” Tony whispers back, his goatee scratching just below Peter’s ear. “How could I not?”

He sounds sincere but Peter knows better.

No one in their right mind could love someone like him.


End file.
